


Snapped Wings

by ashapoop



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Character Death, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, M/M, POV Otabek Altin, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-22
Updated: 2017-07-22
Packaged: 2018-12-05 06:12:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11572026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashapoop/pseuds/ashapoop
Summary: There was no room for words, though, as Otabek dropped the bag to the floor and pulled the smaller man into a hug. Any amount of time could have passed as they stood in Nikolai’s doorway embracing, neither man knew. When the two pulled apart, Yuri was swallowing thickly and trying to breathe without shaking and Otabek could only offer a small smile before pulling off his sweater, letting it be another article of hanging cloth to rest on Yuri’s shoulders before stepping inside and pulling the blonde in after him by a soft tug of the hand.





	Snapped Wings

Throughout the apartment, there was a dark sort of calm feeling, suffocating like a wool blanket on a summer night tangled between sweaty legs. The air was almost difficult to breathe, but that could have been contributed to all the dust floating around from not only the cardboard boxes but from the knick knacks that littered the now vacant apartment that hadn’t been touched in years. The sharp sound of packing tape being pulled and cut away was the only sound to be heard in the apartment aside from the occasional sniffle, but every time Otabek looked over, Yuri was suddenly engrossed in his packing. After the fifth time, the two met eyes and the Kazakh found no one he recognized in the forest green he would constantly find himself lost in. It was the last time that Otabek would check over and see how his lover was doing. 

  


The news came as a shock, a very short text not from Yuri himself but instead from Victor Nikiforov. He wasn’t sure how Victor even had his number as the two never had a full conversation that would lead to the exchanging of information, but he still signed his name at the end of the message. Otabek had known that Nikolai Plisetsky’s health was spiraling, but he had no idea at what rate. Once Yuri had told him over a Skype call, he immediately pulled Potya into his lap and showed him the exact spot he had found a flea last week. The way Yuri had brought it up without real discussion was something Otabek took as not being a big deal instead of something so serious that the blonde couldn’t bring himself to continue talking about, and that was the dark haired man’s fault completely. So when he got the text from Victor saying that the greatest man in Yuri Plisetsky’s life had passed, Otabek found himself leaving practice immediately to get to Russia as quickly as he could. 

  


Every time Otabek looked at Yuri, he remembered how the man looked when he first arrived in St. Petersburg. He was still so out of breath from climbing the stairs two at a time, a bag of pastries in his cold hand from the unforgiving Russian winds, when he pounded on the door. When the blonde had opened the door, Otabek wasn’t sure if it was actually Yuri standing before him. The man’s eyes were puffy and red, skin sallow, and the clothes he wore hung like rags. His hair was tangled and his lips were cracked to the point that they must have been painful and it brought a twist to Otabek’s heart and a prick to his own eyes. The beautiful Russian fairy had his wings snapped and his love ripped from him and it was so _unfair_. 

  


“Beka?” a voice that was hardly a whisper asked. 

  


There was no room for words, though, as Otabek dropped the bag to the floor and pulled the smaller man into a hug. Any amount of time could have passed as they stood in Nikolai’s doorway embracing, neither man knew. When the two pulled apart, Yuri was swallowing thickly and trying to breathe without shaking and Otabek could only offer a small smile before pulling off his sweater, letting it be another article of hanging cloth to rest on Yuri’s shoulders before stepping inside and pulling the blonde in after him by a soft tug of the hand. 

  


The nights that led up to the funeral were harder for Yuri than the days had been. He could force a smile in the sunlight, let the beams warm his freezing skin for so long but as the moon rose higher and higher in the sky, Otabek watched in horror as Yuri seemed to slip from the foundations he was holding so tightly onto. The man could only pull the Russian so close, run his hands through that blonde hair so many times, but the tears still came. He would cry himself to sleep every night in the warm embrace and Otabek would wait on baited breath until the tears let up and his chest rose and fell evenly. When Yuri would finally fall asleep, Otabek sometimes let a few tears of his own fall before whispering into the sleeping man’s hair promises of staying, promises of better times to come, and apologies for the sadness that was encapsulating him. 

  


When the time finally came for the funeral, Yuri surprised Otabek. He always knew that the man was strong, the strongest person he had ever met, but somehow Yuri kept his face stony the whole service, even while saying his goodbyes before the whole church. It would have been easier to watch, Otabek believed, if Yuri had cried the entire time with a box of tissues resting across his lap like a guardian. After the funeral when Yuri had those who attended come to the apartment, he was nothing short of a terse, polite host. The Kazakh man trailed after him until Yuri softly asked him to go sit down. 

  


“Thank you,” he whispered as they both leaned against the countertop next to the kitchenette. “But I need to breathe.” 

  


As the hours wore on, only the few people that Otabek knew remained at the apartment. The distant cousins of Yuri’s had left and they had all begun to drink, Otabek noting that Yuri looked much more comfortable not having to put on the face he did around those who truly loved him most. After countless mixed drinks, Otabek watched as Yuri’s cheeks pinkened and his eyes water and he quietly asked everyone to leave. Yakov pulled him into a tight hug, whispering something no one else could hear, and Yuri could only cough and sputter in response as he nodded vigorously. Lilia, too, left after pressing a soft kiss to the man’s cheek, an action that Victor Nikiforov copied before Yuuri Katsuki pulled him into another hug. 

  


“Let’s go to bed,” Yuri whispered the second the door closed.

“Alright.” 

  


As they lay in bed, Yuri was rolled away from Otabek but still holding the tanned man’s hand tightly, pulling him closer behind him. Otabek stared at the walls fondly, remembering every time he had come to visit, when Yuri was happy and Nikolai’s booming laugh filled every inch of the home. An hour or so had passed and a sudden breath pulled Otabek from his thoughts, peeking over to look at Yuri. For the first time that whole day, Yuri was finally letting the tears that must have been drowning him free, a sight that was both a relief and a weight to Otabek. 

  


“I miss him,” Yuri whimpered, tears pooling in his beautiful eyes. “I miss him so much, Beka. Why did he have to go? Why did he have… to leave me?”

“I’m sorry,” Otabek whispered in a voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry, Yura.” 

  


That day, they were finishing up packing up Nikolai’s apartment. The air was still thick and the room was still quiet, Yuri’s own sniffings stopping. Otabek was working on the kitchen, delicately packing up the scattered skillets and mixing bowls that he’d received so many pictures of in the past, the aged man’s favorite tools to use while making his piroshkis. Yuri was in the living room last Otabek had checked, collecting the matryoshka dolls that the man had such a wide collection of for an unknown reason that Yuri had once said was distributing. As Otabek was ready to tape up the last box, permanent marker already uncapped, he heard a delicate laugh that had been missing since the last time they had met. 

  


“Yura?” he asked in a soft tone that he knew would carry. “What’s so funny?”

“Come here, I found something.” 

When Otabek entered the living room, he saw Yuri sitting cross legged on the ground with a photo album opened on his lap, a beautiful smile lighting up his fairy’s face. He took a few steps before sitting down and joining him on the ground, looking at the photo that Yuri’s finger rested upon. 

  


“He told me once when he was a teenager that he had an awful haircut like I did, but he never showed me. He hid this album all the way in the back of the cabinet, behind all of grandma’s fine china. Now I… now _we_ get to finally see it and it’s ridiculous, right?!”

“It’s pretty funny. Not as bad as yours was, though.” 

They spent quite some time on the ground, going through the album together and sharing small smiles as they saw only a few of the snapshots of Nikolai Plisetsky’s life. Otabek saw as Nikolai caught his first fish, made his first piroshki, got married, and smiled over the birth of his children with a tear in his eye. A few pages beyond and Otabek almost gasped as he saw another small bundle, a newborn Yuri Plisetsky wrapped up in a scratchy hospital blanket. The rest of the book was full of Yuri, beaming with some missing teeth and scrapes on his knees before he was on ice skates. Otabek waited for Yuri to turn the next page, wanting to know more of the childhood Yuri hardly spoke of, but there was hesitation before a tear fell onto the picture of Yuri with his first trophy while sitting atop his grandfather’s shoulders. He glanced over and saw the blonde frozen, fingers curling into a loose grip, before Otabek pulled him into his arms. 

“Don’t cry,” he whispered, kissing his hair and closing his own eyes. “Don’t cry, Yura. It’s alright. You’ll get through this… _we’ll_ get through this.”

**Author's Note:**

> Henlo friendos. I hope that you like this, it was based off [this](http://http://ruspunk.tumblr.com/post/163270487787/angstfluff-prompt-list) Tumblr angst/fluff prompt list with "don't cry" and "we'll get through this". This is probably the deepest shit I've written in a while. If ya want, feel free to send me some prompts too!


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